A liquid dose of disconnect pours over me easily, without any resistance, without even thinking. Just like the reflex of reaching for coffee first thing, an unconscious offering to the blank slate of nothing seeping from root to tip to fill my empty cup. The darkness stares back with one question, a resounding so what? I sip with a distance, stir now and then as if to froth the gathering thoughts and decide what to make of them, swallowing my contradictions before do anything
Arya Sunyata
@theheartdrive · 1:18
Okay, so during that piece of contemplation, which was very cleverly done, by the way, I'm going, did she hide cameras in my room and knows just what I do? It was just wonderful how you could just articulate so much depth around something so reflexive
inderjit …
@inder · 5:00
The idea is to find why my logs are damp, why no spark lights the fire again. And so do these wise. I keep coming back to your beautiful poems, keep sharing them. And this blankness, miss void, Ms. Silence. This is sometimes a huge chasm in front of me. And now I've begun to worship it as my sacred void. Pause. Test. Because I've been an impatient individual for such a long time as my great teacher
Adenike Nana Esie
@nourishyou · 0:57
Well inder. That was magical. It was like a meditation of a response. And it's hard for me to imagine a time when your ink well would ever be really dry. You have so, such a fluid imagination and a fluent way of creating scapes with your words. So keep doing what you're doing. Maybe this is just a different way of keeping your ink wet, if you like. And it suits you. So go with it, flow with it. And keep sipping that coffee